


De-Tached: Story Two: Life with Beverly: Chapter 1: Baby Blues

by mabb5



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-08
Updated: 2012-12-16
Packaged: 2017-11-20 14:57:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/586613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mabb5/pseuds/mabb5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The second sequel to my a/u novel "Attached Meant". In this story, Beverly and Jean-Luc are learning to live with each other and the leftovers of their psychic bond from the KesPrytt. They're expecting a baby. And get some unexpected news. Not to mention a visit from a certain Ambassadress from Betazed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A.N.: In order not to be completely confused about how things have come to this point, it is advisable that you read the novel "Attached Meant" and its sequel "De-Tached: Story One: Life With Beverly".
> 
> Of course, if you'd rather just go with the flow without reading my earlier efforts, that's okay too. The situation isn't that difficult to understand. Jean-Luc and Beverly are happily married and living in the house that he'd inherited from his Aunt Adele, in San Francisco. Picard is the Superintendent of Starfleet Academy now. Beverly is the temporary head of Starfleet Medical, though in a few months, by order of the head of Starfleet - Fleet Admiral Winston Holt Wiley - she's about to become the new admiral in charge of Starfleet's new Hospital Fleet. Oh, and Beverly is pregnant. And thanks to an aftereffect of their psychic bond from the KesPrytt incident, Jean-Luc can feel everything that Beverly feels during their pregnancy including morning sickness. Amongst others, they are served by Jean-Luc's former personal assistant and friend, Mildred Krebs. 
> 
> All of this is set in an alternate universe that takes place immediately after the episode "Attached". Therefore, nothing canon that happened after "Attached" exists in this a/u. Riker is now captain of the Enterprise. Robert and Rene are alive. Admiral Nechayev is a good guy, Etc.
> 
> All the usual disclaimers apply. STAR TREK is Paramount's property. But it is fandom's playground.
> 
> This author would greatly appreciate any reviews or comments.

DE-TACHED:STORY TWO: 

LIFE WITH BEVERLY: 

CHAPTER 1: Baby Blues

Pure, unadulterated fear gripped his throat. He stared into the room, trying not to give rise to his disbelief - or his temper. He fought himself to remain calm even as he quietly stepped into the room, refusing to give in to his panic or to do anything that might frighten his pregnant, maddening bride. "Beverly…" By the very cool and collected tone and timbre to his voice, she should have had some sense of his disapproval.

"Jean-Luc! What do you think?" Beverly was in a very cheerful mood this evening, somehow not sensing -or deliberately ignoring - the undercurrents of the distraught temper of her husband.

Jean-Luc carefully stepped closer to the ladder on which his wife was perched. She was on the fourth step up from the bottom. He didn't want to do or say anything that would upset Beverly until she set both feet on terra firma. And then she would know what his opinion was about her climbing a ladder in her condition. How utterly reckless, careless, not to mention incredibly stupid of an action it was. "What are you doing?" Again, he spoke softly, even as he watched her every little twitch with a stare akin to that of a peregrine.

"Picking the colors for the nursery, of course." The smile that she bestowed upon him was full of delight at the pleasure of his company - and it revealed more than just a bit of the scamp in her. And then she glanced over at the different colored stripes near the crown moulded ceiling above the French doors. She studied them for a minute. "I want to see what our paint choices look like when the light hits it at different times during the day."

"Don't they have computer projection programs that do exactly that?" Again, he was trying to maintain his calm.

"They're never seem to actually accomplish that. They never quite look realistic." She paused to smear one more stripe of paint - this time an aquamarine tone - next to the other nursery room color candidates. "I think I'm partial to the aquamarine," she observed as she blithely took a step backward, off of the ladder.

His scream froze in his throat as he watched his wife float down to stand on the parquetry floor. It was then that he saw her anti-grav safety belt strapped about her waist under the over-sized pine green sweater that she was loosely wearing.

With a smile that told him how she'd already guessed as to why he had been upset with her, and his reaction to the sight of her up on a high ladder, and how he had thought that she was being reckless, she nobly refrained from saying a word. She walked over to him, tapped his nose with a sticky finger, made sure that she dabbed more than a smear of blue paint there, embraced him, and then fiercely kissed him so thoroughly that the remnants of his fright faded into their swirling passions.

A few more satisfying and reassuring kisses later, Jean-Luc pulled his bride onto his lap, as he positioned both of their bodies on the edge of the day bed that had just been set up in the room. "I hate it when you do that."

"Do what?" she murmured against his shoulder as she rested her head there. He automatically began to slowly stroke her golden red hair as was now his habit whenever they were close and conversing.

"Set me up to prove once again, that I am the most overly-protective, over-bearing idiot of a husband with a pregnant wife that this solar system has ever seen."

"That about sums you up," she agreed, "though I would have said the galaxy…"

"Will you forgive me?"

"Only if you forgive me for leading you on," she teased.

Suddenly, he was serious. "Beverly, I really am sorry that I was foolish enough to believe that you'd climb a ladder without taking the proper safety precautions."

"Jean-Luc, I must confess that I've been known to be reckless on occasion."

He couldn't help it. He had to query, "Only on occasion?"

She ignored his little jibe and continued. "But I never will be foolish as long as I carry our child." She brushed her lips against his. "I need you not only to understand that, but to believe it as well. I won't endanger our baby, darling."

And the logical part of his brain, believed her as he gathered her back into his arms for another kiss.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

He suspected that it was close to 0200 hours, though he had little inclination to confirm that fact with their bedside clock. For that would have required moving, and possibly brushing his body against that of his wife. And he suspected that his touching her, even if it was by accident, was the last thing that his wife wanted. They both were in bed. And she was wearing a pink flannel nightgown that he had never seen before. And never wished to see again if he were ever given the choice. Neither of them could sleep.

There was nothing but silence…

And he had not the faintest clue as to why.

Beverly had completely shut him out. It had started yesterday evening. They'd been talking, laughing, complaining about the actions of certain subordinates. And then he knew that she'd felt something from the baby. He'd recognized the expression on her face. And instead of opening up the silent bond between them, sharing the moment as she usually did, she had suddenly erected barriers. Barriers that he did not even know that she could raise between them. And then, she had refused to answer his questions - any of his questions. And it had been that way between them for going on thirty hours now.

He felt nothing from her now. No morning sickness; no sudden intense craving for Risian mandarin orange, anchovy and Gouda cheese pizza; no desire to spend hours abed inventing new ways to pleasure each other. She had completely closed herself down to him. She had shut him out.

And he had not the faintest clue as to why.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

Beverly hid behind the offices of support staff that protected the head of Starfleet Medical from unwanted intruders. She knew that sooner or later, Mildred would brave those barriers and work her way into her inner sanctum. She knew that her husband would send Mrs. Krebs instead of himself. She knew he was hurt by her actions, and that, after asking her several times, what was wrong and receiving no real answer, his next step would be to send in the big guns in the form of Mildred. She knew that once she had shut out Mildred, he'd be summoning Wesley at some point in time as back up.

So she wasn't that surprised when Mildred barged into her office. Beverly had been ostensibly studying at her desk, a padd report about the infection patterns of Dionysian flu on board the closed environs of starships. In reality, she had just been waiting for Mildred's arrival.

"Hon, are you okay?"

"Yes."

"The baby - is it okay?"

"Yes, Mildred. The baby is doing as well as is its mother."

"You want to tell me about it?"

"No." On Mildred's swift hurt expression she added, "That is, not yet, Mildred. Not until I know myself for sure, what's going on."

"Okay, Beverly. We'll do it your way." Mildred walked away from the crystalline desk covered with padds, and an antique French pottery parfumerie filled with lavender, and stepped out the door. But she paused in the doorway and looked back at Beverly, studying her. "He doesn't deserve to be treated like this, Beverly. Even if you won't tell Jean-Luc what's really going on, you could at least talk to him. He is hurting, Beverly. And he doesn't know what to do with himself." With that, Mildred walked away.

Beverly waited until her door was fully shut before she brought up her view screen again and finished composing her sub-space message to Deanna.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

"Ya-hoooo…"

"I think you mean yoohoo," Mildred corrected, as she trailed in the wake of one of the few women in the universe who could actually impress her. Not to mention royally annoy her. And bring Mildred to start brushing up on her knowledge of untraceable poisons and/or referencing her library of books that contained secret information about the most painful, untraceable ways to kill someone. Mildred Krebs was in one of those moods.

"No. 'Yahoo' is exactly the right word," the ambassadress sniffed.

Mildred rolled her eyes, even as she waited expectantly for the fireworks to begin. For whenever Lwaxana Troi was in town, there were sure to be fireworks.

They entered the library looking for Jean-Luc. It was early in the evening, and the library was usually the place where Jean-Luc could be found before dinner. Except that this time he was not in sight at all.

Mildred inwardly groaned. Surely he hadn't been stupid enough to…

"I know you're in here, Jean-Luc!" Lwaxana announced loudly into the air.

"I was just…" Jean-Luc abruptly realized that there was no polite way to explain his instinctive reaction to the presence of Lwaxana Troi in his house, so he just simply walked back down the spiral staircase with as dignified an expression as he could muster.

Neither lady doubted that he had clambered up the staircase the moment that he'd realized that Lwaxana Troi was in the hallway to the library. But both ladies refrained from pointing this out to the admiral. They could afford to be magnanimous over the little things.

"Lwaxana, how… unexpected," was Jean-Luc's opening salvo as he greeted the lady from Betazed.

"You obviously don't listen to Starfleet gossip then," was Lwaxana's reply as she looked about the room. Not that she would admit to it, but she was impressed with the ancient house and its decor. "I've been visiting Holt fairly often over the past few months." Watching him blanch over this bit of romance news almost made up for Jean-Luc's lack of an effusive greeting. Lwaxana idly wondered how he would react when he learned that she was to be his house guest - at his wife's invitation, no less.

"You look…" Jean-Luc paused from paying a compliment to the lady since it was going to take him a good moment to pull his thoughts together over the sight of Lwaxana in her pink, purple and gold outfit.

Mildred finished the sentence for him, as she snarkily observed, "…like her dress designer ran out of fabric for the front of her dress. It's a wonder that you haven't expired by now, from the Arpian Pneumonia. I hear that naked chests are the easiest way of catching it."

If looks could kill, Mildred would have been dead decades ago.


	2. Bottle Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lwaxana has some interesting news for Jean-Luc and Beverly about their babies.

DE-TACHED:STORY TWO: 

LIFE WITH BEVERLY: 

CHAPTER 2: Bottle Plans

"Oh my poor, little lamb…" Lwaxana chokingly sobbed.

And Beverly found herself overwhelmingly bear-hugged in the arms of the Senior Ambassador to Betazed. So the CMO of Starfleet responded appropriately by bursting into tears. Beverly had not realized just how very much she was in need of a little mothering. But with someone like Lwaxana, there was very little that was 'little'. At times, Lwaxana could be overwhelming. But in this particular instance, Beverly needed such unrestrained comforting. It had been a very long time since someone had held Beverly with such personal concern for only her well-being. So Beverly's tears flowed and flowed.

"Oh my poor, little lamb… Always giving. Never taking. Always having to be the strong one, never showing any sign of weakness... It's no wonder you needed me…" Lwaxana made sure that she said these words loud enough so the Jean-Luc overheard them as Beverly continued to sob.

And much to Jean-Luc's surprising relief, he felt like crying too. He was beginning to 'sense' Beverly again. He still didn't know what was going on with his wife. Beverly had sent for Lwaxana. Beverly apparently needed her. And Lwaxana was here to help. That much he gleaned from his bride's turbulent emotions. Sighing in relief that at least something was breaking up his impasse with Beverly, he walked over to a comfortable leather armchair in his library, sat down, and watched as Beverly continued to sob onto Lwaxana's now very damp pink silk shoulder pads .

Lwaxana slowly maneuvered Beverly over to the brown leather Chesterfield sofa by the blazing fire and ordered her to rest. The lady did not protest.

"Get out of here, Jean-Luc. Beverly needs to be calm for a while, before we continue." She waved her hand to stifle his forthcoming protests. "I'll come and get you when it's time." Her had fluttered in the direction of the French doors leading to the terrace. "Go for a run or something." She mentally added, I've always wanted to see you in your short-short jogging shorts…

"I heard that," was his comment before he wisely removed himself from the library.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

Jean-Luc walked into Mildred's office on the lowest floor to the Arts and Crafts style house that had been built into the Californian hillside. Over the centuries the house had been rebuilt several times. At times this was out of necessity because of damage done by earthquakes. And then there were the many changes to the function of the building. The house now had three original floors above ground which was where the Picard family lived, two floors on the side that was used now for offices and functions, and three floors below ground that was used for security, guest rooms and other purposes. There were additional multiple out buildings used for everything from gardening, to growing exotic orchids, stabling horses and more.

In the not too distant past, Jean-Luc's Aunt Adele and her husband had used the house as a home as well as the headquarters for her husband's many businesses. After Jean-Luc had inherited this house when he was a cadet, he'd asked Boothby to take care of it for him, little realizing that such a request decades later would turn the already extensive gardens into the nurseries for the Academy gardens. The past few immediate decades, the old house had been rented as an embassy. Fortuitously, when Jean-Luc and Beverly had married and accepted their promotions to the admiralty, the house had been vacated. So Marie Picard, Boothby and Mildred had made sure that it was a suitable home for the lovebirds when they finally arrived home from their extended honeymoon.

Jean-Luc found himself readily becoming used to living here. He wasn't overly fond of the tight security that Starfleet, Mr. Worf and Mr. Data had insisted upon setting up around the building when first they'd moved into the house and compound. But he'd become used to it. It was no more intrusive than what he'd endured as a starship captain. And due to the nature of the threats that still came for him sometimes referencing 'Locutus', Picard reluctantly recognized the very real necessity of having such encompassing security if he was going to keep Beverly and his family safe.

"They're still at it, Johnny," Mildred announced before he even had time to ask the question. She got up from behind her massive antique oak desk, and picked up a silver plate of cookies sitting on a matching credenza. She just handed it him. Instead of picking up just one, he took the plate, sat down and slowly started munching on one of Mildred's home-made chocolate chip cookies that did not have any nuts.

"Want some bourbon to go with that, Johnny?" Mildred asked, with just enough of a touch of innocence to her voice as to not quite convince Picard that she was mocking him. For he recalled the last time he'd eaten chocolate chip cookies and drank bourbon with Mildred. And it had been a long time ago, before he'd ever even sat in the captain's chair of the Enterprise. He took the double bourbon that Mildred had poured, and then ate some more of his cookie.

"It does go together," was Jean-Luc Picard's surprised utterance.

"Told you so," Mildred pleasantly agreed as she sat down next to Jean-Luc. "It only took you more than ten years to find out."

"Under ordinary circumstances, I do not eat cookies, Mildred."

"My cookies, Johnny? Or cookies in general?"

He glared at her. He'd never ever given her permission to call him 'Johnny'. But that had not stopped Mildred from calling him by Woody Nakamura's favorite nickname for him. And Guinan's favorite nickname too…

"Have you figured it out yet, Mildred?" He put down the cookie plate.

"You're not really a cookie man. Considering how good a cook your grandmother must have been, at least according to Marie, you're probably more susceptible to gateau and crème brulee."

Jean-Luc drank some of his bourbon. "Is that why you found for me a Belgian chef who had a preference for French cuisine?"

"One of the reasons, Johnny. I knew that sooner or later you'd end up marrying Beverly. And though Beverly is a good cook, she ain't a French cook." Mildred ate a cookie. "Besides, she's a doctor. She's got more important things to do than to figure out your grandmother's lemon biscuit recipes."

"True." He put down his glass. He had no intention of being under the influence of alcohol this evening. "So, have you figured out yet, why Beverly sent for Lwaxana?"

"Actually, I think Beverly sent for Deanna. But Lwaxana was a lot closer than Deanna was. And Beverly couldn't wait."

"Wait for what, Mildred?"

"Now that's something that I don't know, Jean-Luc." Mildred eyed his barely touched lowball glass of bourbon. "You'd better drink that, Johnny. Lwaxana said that it would relax you enough so that when you're needed, she'll be better able to help Beverly - and you. Then you can start sharing your morning sickness again."

"Under ordinary circumstances, I cannot imagine any man complaining about not feeling and sharing in with his wife's morning sickness."

"And yet, Johnny, here you are. Upset because Beverly wouldn't let you get nauseous along with her. You are a contrary man, Jean-Luc Picard."

"True." He speculated for a moment. "If Riker were to know of this…"

"Don't worry, I won't tell him. And his time will come. If he ever gets his Imzadi pregnant, he'll experience something pretty close to what you've been suffering through."

Jean-Luc smiled at that particular thought. "I shall look forward to that day." He paused for a few moments as his mood darkened. "Should I send for Dr. Bolt?"

Mildred shook her head. "Beverly is smart enough to send for her doctor if it's necessary. We both have to follow her lead right now, in all of this - at least until we really learn about what is going on." Mildred drained her glass. "To be honest, all of this has really thrown me for a loop. I pride myself on knowing what is going on at all times…"

"I had noticed," Picard dryly interjected.

Mildred nobly refrained from glaring at him.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

Beverly warily eyed the glass that Lwaxana had thrust under her nose. Firelight glinted off the faceting to the sides of the crystal glass, casting about flares of aurora borealis glints here and there.

"I can't drink it, Lwaxana," Beverly observed as she tried to ignore the glass that hadn't moved. "It's real brandy."

'Of course it's real brandy. That's why I want you to drink it." Lwaxana shook her head as multiple curls and shimmery things that apparently were hair ornaments, bounced about. "Two shots of the real thing won't hurt you, now will it? Hmmmm?"

Beverly actually thought about it for a while. "I suppose not."

"Drink it, Beverly. The medicinal properties of alcohol will help you relax just enough so that I can continue to help you." She sniffed before she added, "And Jean-Luc."

"Have you sensed what is going on?"

"I'm getting there Beverly. If it is what I think it is, well, let's just say that you and Jean-Luc never do things the easy, simplest way. At the very least, you are going to need an empathic and telepathic nursemaid to deal with your offspring. Someone is going to have to teach them how to raise barriers and control their thoughts and learn the formal protocols… A Vulcan or a Betazed will do."

Beverly chugged her brandy, ignored the fire as the liquid burned down her throat, dropped her glass and screeched, "Them!"

Lwaxana sat down next to Beverly, patted her arm quite lovingly and asked, "Surely you knew that you are carrying twins?"

"I…, uh…," She took a deep breath before she answered. "...I thought I sensed two minds. That's what caused me to panic for when I ran the medical scans on myself, I kept only finding one life sign. I thought that I'd been possessed by some alien. Or that I was succumbing to a psychosis."

"Oh, there was only one life sign. That was junior's fault."

Beverly sank against the back of the sofa. "Junior?" she whispered.

"You're expecting a son and a daughter. It was the boy that protected his sister from the scans." She shook her head as she read the first thought that crossed through Beverly's head. "Don't know why junior did it. There must be something very special about the girl. It's why he is so protective of her."

Beverly motioned toward the medical tricorder that was on a side table. Lwaxana picked it up and handed it to her. It took Beverly only a few moments before she sighed in audible relief. "I'm now reading both of them. They're healthy."

"Of course they are." Lwaxana leaned over and patted Beverly's tummy. "Aren't you, my little, little ones?"

Beverly suddenly giggled. "They like you!"

"All babies do." Then Lwaxana giggled. "It's when they get older that you usually start running into the problems." Then she audibly sighed, picked up her glass and drained it. "Beverly, these two are going to be problems. And have problems. Aside from the fact that Jean-Luc is their father…"

"Lwaxana," Beverly warned.

"A woman can gripe about the one that got away, can't she?" Lwaxana chuckled. "I can hardly wait to see Jean-Luc's face when he learns about both of them." She paused as she searched the air as if she were sensing something. "Mildred has got him mellow enough."

"Mellow enough?"

"My dear Beverly, do you really think that Jean-Luc can grasp all of this when he is in his uber-sober Starfleet mode?"

Beverly shook her head. "Don't tell me that he can form a telepathic link with the babies' minds."

"Just like you can, my dear. You both just have to learn how to do it correctly."

Beverly shook her head, moaning softly. "How did this happen?"

"I think that you can safely blame those Prissy people for jump-starting your telepathic evolutionary process a couple of steps."

"But why the children?"

"Path of least resistance, my dear. You and Jean-Luc have all sorts of mental barriers haphazardly in place. These innocent minds do not. So it was easier for them to start getting tethered to each other and to you."

"And eventually Jean-Luc." Beverly moaned again. "And when they're teenagers…"

"Well, by then all the mental protocols will be in place. Though to be honest with you Beverly, I'm not sure to what extent they will be needed. Though you and Jean-Luc have some empathic/telepathic qualities, they are at a very low level of ability. But what I am sensing from these two…" Lwaxana again patted Beverly's stomach. "…well, let's just say that the Betazed doctors are going to be very interested in them. Not to mention your own doctors…"

"No." Beverly was adamant. "I don't want them to turn into guinea pigs or geeks on display. Is there some way we can find out about their abilities without raising a lot of red flags along the way? The last thing I want is for my children to become the target of a Starfleet parapsychological study."

"Then we have to choose wisely. A Betazed physician who does not belong to Starfleet, perhaps."

Beverly sighed and then rested against the back of the couch. "I suppose we should send for Jean-Luc." She sat up. "I do have to apologize for the way I've been treating him these past two days."

"He'll understand why you panicked, my dear."

"Lwaxana, it's his understanding of why I didn't tell him about what I was sensing that worries me."

"He loves you. He'll forgive you of anything and everything."

"You sound so sure, Lwaxana."

Lwaxana smiled in spite of her inclinations when it came to Jean-Luc Picard. "Dear, the first time I met you, I knew that you were the woman that he adored above and beyond everyone else in the galaxy. The only reason I made a play for him at all back then, was because Jean-Luc was under the impression that he didn't stand a chance with you."

"I didn't know myself, back then. When it came to my personal life, I had just packed it all away after Jack died. Whatever I felt was always so superficial after that, when I was with anyone else. I never let anyone get below the surface. I didn't think that I deserved…"

"Believe me my dear, I do understand. After my Ian died, I went through quite a few men not to mention husbands. But none of them ever reached my heart the way that Ian had." Lwaxana rose and straightened out her skirts. "Now, I'm just content to find a man that I can actually like. Sometimes even love. But never like Ian…"

"That's just it, Lwaxana. There are times when I know that what I feel for Jean-Luc absolutely overwhelms whatever I felt for Jack. And I feel so guilty…"

"Beverly, Jack was your young love. And if the fates had been kind, he would have been your old love too. But the fates weren't kind. And along came Jean-Luc. You've been his old forever kind of love for a very long time now. It just took you a while to accept that. And to realize what he is to you and you are to him."

A moment later, Jean-Luc and Mildred entered the library.

"Jean-Luc," Lwaxana royally announced, "Come and meet your twins." Lwaxana did have to give Jean-Luc Picard credit. His step did not falter as he approached Beverly. And he didn't faint either though it did take him a moment to collect himself before he hugged his wife.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

Beverly had washed her face, and slipped into a comfortable brown sweater and leggings. Outwardly, she appeared to be much calmer than what she had been a few hours earlier. This was belied however, by the way she was pacing about their bedroom.

"Jean-Luc, what are we to do?"

"Double the order of the nursery furniture?" he suggested.

"I don't mean that - though, I suppose that we should double the order." She glanced in the direction of where the nursery was currently located. "Maybe we should knock out a wall and make our dressing room part of the nursery too."

Jean-Luc walked up to his wife and simply embraced her for a moment, content just to be holding her. "Actually, we should turn this bedroom and the dressing room into the nursery. We could knock a door out in the dressing room wall. That will connect the other bedroom which will then become our bedroom, directly to these rooms." He looked in the opposite direction and studied the walls. "Maybe we can connect the room on the other side of this wall too. Make it the nursemaid's room."

"I'll worry about that later." Beverly stifled a sob. "Jean-Luc, what if our children are true telepaths?"

"Then they go to school on Betazed instead of attending it in LaBarre."

=/\= =/\= =/\=

Jean-Luc Picard looked at himself in their bathroom mirror, and grimaced. He was not looking forward to this evening's dinner. It's not that he truly disliked Lwaxana - far from it. It's just that she was such a tiring dinner guest. He always had to keep his guard up whenever he was around the lady. And, quite frankly, he was tired. The past few days had been very long days and nights, indeed.

He adjusted the collar to a new olive silk tunic - Beverly apparently liked him in olive silk since she'd presented several tunics and shirts to him of that color during the time of their marriage.

"Jean-Luc? Are you coming?"

Jean-Luc sighed, and left the bathroom after double-checking that everything about himself was presentable.

Beverly twirled in front of him, as if to force him to admire how she looked. Not that he needed forcing… He merely smiled as he gazed upon her. Tonight she was wearing a dark blue, off the shoulder dress. Her dress was somewhat casual and was a perfect choice for a quiet dinner at home with their company. However, she'd dressed it up with the earrings and bracelet that he'd given her as a wedding present. The sapphires and diamonds would sparkle quite a bit in the candlelight from the sterling candelabra and epergne at the center of the dining table. He did not doubt that she'd made these choices with a certain ambassadress in mind.

"You look beautiful, mon coeur," he murmured as he managed to catch her in mid-twirl.

"You always say that," she teased.

"And I always will because I do mean it."

Beverly stood still. "Do you think I should wear the necklace too?"

"Beverly, if you wish to wear the necklace, then do so. However, I think that you look perfectly beautiful at the moment."

"And there is no such thing as one-upping Lwaxana Troi when it comes to jewelry," Beverly ruefully admitted, laughing.

"Lwaxana wears her jewelry as if they were medals awarded for services rendered. She wants people to focus on them - and not directly on her." He pressed a gentle kiss against his wife's forehead. "You however, have no need for such artifice."

"And when I get to be Lwaxana's age?"

"It will always be you that I gaze upon, Beverly. And not how many Rigellian firestones you are wearing."

"Pretty words, Jean-Luc," she teased. "But they won't absolve you from bestowing on your wife a pretty gemstone now and then."

=/\= =/\= =/\=

The dinner had gone well, under the circumstances. Lwaxana actually complimented the chef. And Ludvig had preened over her kind words. And the dinner conversation had been pleasant enough. Though there had been times during the conversations, when Jean-Luc feared that Beverly, Mildred and Lwaxana were ganging up on him. He got the illogical idea that all three ladies blamed him for Beverly's condition...

It was only after dinner that his true trial began. He escorted the ladies back to the library for after-dinner coffee or tea and brandy (for only two of the three ladies). Ludvig followed, guiding a trolley cart with a silver coffee and tea service and several trays of pastries and fruit on it. He centered it by the sofa and the two armchairs that had been dragged into position. Then Ludvig bowed, asked if they needed anything else, accepted their thanks for everything that he'd done, and left the room.

Jean-Luc was under the impression, at first, that things were fine. Though Lwaxana had been casting a speculative eye on Beverly's jewelry as if she knew down to the quarter carat just how large the sapphires were and the total carat weight of all the diamonds.

Mildred spoke first. "We have to find the proper nursemaid before the babies arrive."

"I agree," Lwaxana cheerfully replied as she added a few drops of coffee to her brandy. She'd won the silent battle with Mildred over who would play mother and actually pour the tea or coffee. Beverly had conceded her right to pour since at the moment, she was tired. And she just simply didn't care whether it was Mildred or Lwaxana who served her an herbal ginger tea. Lwaxana continued chattering. "We want that individual to be trusted by the children from the time of their birth."

"And if we don't find someone by the time of the birth?" Beverly worriedly asked.

"Then, I'll just stay and take care of the twins myself," Lwaxana airily announced. "Mr. Homm knows how to change diapers." She watched as Jean-Luc blanched. "Actually, it'll be fun. And since Deanna hasn't felt inclined to give me any grandchildren, I'll just adopt yours." Lwaxana raised an eyebrow as she sweetly asked, "You won't mind, will you, Jean-Luc?"

Jean-Luc unfortunately snorted some coffee the wrong way up his nose and wind pipe at this pronouncement. Beverly had to pat Jean-Luc on the back several times before his choking stopped. He finally croaked out, "Do we have to have a nursemaid?"

All three ladies merely looked at him. Patiently speaking as if she knew she were explaining things to only a mere man, Mildred said, "Johnny, neither you nor Beverly have the mental telepathic skills or training to cope with the babies. Of course you have to have someone with you from the birth who can guide the babies into the world. You don't want your children exposed to unshielded thoughts when they are born." She eyed her boss as if he were the problem. "They're going to have enough to deal with on their own…"

"She's correct," Lwaxana added. "Beverly, considering how Wesley turned out, you should have realized what kind of genetic soup mix you were creating when you mated with Jean-Luc."

Jean-Luc had been accused of many things before. But complaining about his genes?

"Meaning?" Beverly asked. Her voice was so icy, Jean-Luc imagined that he saw wisps of frost in the room.

"Wesley's a genius," Lwaxana blithely explained, ignoring Beverly's ire. "And that's the result from your only mating with a somewhat ordinary human male. But having children with a sperm donor like Jean-Luc? The very least you should be expecting are cousins worthy of the Continuum as your offspring."

Beverly didn't know whether or not to be pleased with Lwaxana's assessment of Wesley's intelligence or to be upset with her criticism of Jack as the father.

Jean-Luc on the other had, was aghast at Lwaxana's suggestions about the results of his created offspring. "Next, you'll be telling me that we should contact Q to see if he can help," Picard retorted.

"Actually, that's not that crazy of any idea," Mildred responded.

"No!" both Lwaxana and Jean-Luc yelled together.

"You've never met Q…," Lwaxana observed, with a grin. Though she relished the idea of Q meeting Mildred. Now that would be a momentous occasion…

"Then we need to start searching for suitable candidates now," Mildred stated.

"I'll start looking on Betazed," Lwaxana added.

"And I'll take care of the little ones until you can find a permanent nursemaid," a calm voice boomed out from the doorway.

Jean-Luc tried to repress the groan that came too-readily to his lips.

"I'm your new nanny," Guinan merrily stated as she walked over and helped herself to the French brandy. She didn't bother with the coffee. Or a cup.


	3. Connivin' Women

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean-luc finds himself somewhat overwhelmed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .N. Some people have asked about the way I am titling these stories. All of the sequels to the "Attached Meant" series are going to be entitled "De-Tached". As to why I picked that title and the reason as to why I hyphenated it, well, you'll just have to read on through the next few months. In the meantime, coming soon will be "Life with Will", "Life with Wesley", "Life with Worf", etc. All the stories will be connected in some way, but I am trying to write them so that you won't have to read everything that happened before in order to make sense of them. Of course, I'd appreciate it if you read everything that had happened before, but I am well aware that it is sort of a lost-weekend kind of read. Not that I mind those kind of lost weekends when I'm by myself, but since we're heading into the holidays I am well aware that personal time is at a premium. Again, thank you for all of your kind comments.

DE-TACHED:STORY TWO: 

LIFE WITH BEVERLY: Connivin' Women

CHAPTER 3:

His hand did not tremble as he poured himself some coffee. He was proud of this accomplishment. The fact that he was actually pouring coffee into a Crown Derby antique bone china "Imari" pattern cup at this time of night, instead of imbibing some Earl Grey was a sign as to just how much the day's events had upset his equilibrium. Matters weren't helped any by Lwaxana insisting on putting a rather exhausted Beverly to bed without any help from her husband. The fact that Mildred had sided with Lwaxana did not bode well for Jean-Luc Picard's immediate future.

Jean-Luc had always thought (at least in his heart-of-hearts) that he could manage Beverly when necessary, by himself. One-on-one. 

Put Beverly and Mildred together, and he still thought that he could maintain some sort of happy masculine equipoise even when the two ladies joined forces and ganged up on him. Not that Jean-Luc ever blamed Beverly when this happened. He always knew that Mildred would be the guilty instigator.

Add Lwaxana to the mix, and he knew that if he were so foolish as to succumb to a desire for masculine dominance in such a situation, for push to come to shove as it were, his balls would be handed to him on a silver platter. He didn't stand a chance in a Rura Penthian hell of being the victor when those three ladies combined forces.

But add Guinan to the mix, and he knew that along with his now sautéed balls, soon he would be wearing a 'Kick Me' sign on his back if he should even think of trying to cross this feminine quartet.

The cup rattled on the saucer that he was now handing to Guinan.

"Something the matter, Jean-Luc?" The question was innocent. The gleam in Guinan's eyes was not.

Jean-Luc settled back into his leather arm chair as he sipped his coffee. "I am just wondering how I came to be blessed with so many conniving females under my roof."

The fact that he'd used the word conniving told Guinan all that she needed to know about the current mental and physical state of Jean-Luc Picard. Matters weren't helped any, she suspected, by the wine that he'd had for dinner. And whatever Lwaxana had tricked him in to drinking before that. No, Jean-Luc Picard was not in his most guarded of moods tonight. "In some ways, Jean-Luc, you're one of the luckiest men in the universe." Guinan meant this most sincerely.

"You know, Guinan, I actually believe that that is true. Everything that I've ever really wanted in my life from a captain's chair to Beverly as a wife to now, a family, I have been granted. Just not necessarily in the time frame that I would have preferred."

"What's the matter, baldy. Think that you can't handle Beverly and some twins?"

Jean-Luc ignored Guinan's personal nickname for him. Long ago he'd given up trying to get her to change it. At least she was kind enough only to call him baldy in private. "Guinan, I know that I can 'handle' them. But, is it fair to them? Especially the children. Do they really deserve the elderly father that they are going to be getting?"

Guinan hooted in disbelief. "Jean-Luc, if I didn't know you any better, I'd suspect that you were fishing for compliments. You can still out-run and out-last most of the cadets and teachers that are under your command. I always place my money on you when Q comes to call. Hell, you even still beat me at chess now and then." She put down her coffee cup and came to kneel by one of her favorite mortals of all time, patting his knee reassuringly. Her royal blue robes splayed about her as she knelt. "And you're doing Beverly and the babies no favor by wishing for a younger version of yourself. Some misbegotten demi-god with an initial for a name might actually grant you that wish. You'll quickly find that the older and wiser Jean-Luc Picard is by far the better man." She patted his knee again. "He always is."

Jean-Luc poured himself some brandy into his coffee cup. He filled Guinan's cup as well. "Oddly enough, I do find your words reassuring."

Guinan returned to the sofa clutching her coffee cup. "Thank you, Johnny."

He didn't even grimace at the use of this nickname. They sat in comfortable, companiable silence for a few minutes just drinking and watching the flames in the hearth.

Jean-Luc finally whispered, "Guinan, I'm going to be a father. I've never been so frightened over any prospect before in my life. What if I'm not good enough? How can I protect them… I mean, I don't even like children…"

Guinan laughed when she heard this. "Jean-Luc, the bad fathers are the ones who aren't afraid of raising children. Even if I didn't know you so well, the fact that you are so full of doubts tells me all that I need to know about you - you're going to be a great father. You are actually thinking about what it takes to be a good father. The bad fathers are the ones who never do." Guinan finished off her brandy. "And those two babies of yours are going to be some of the luckiest children in the galaxy. Think of all the honorary 'aunts' and 'uncles' and 'cousins' that they are going to have looking out for them and protecting them. Anyone who is loyal to you in their heart will protect your children as well. And as for your liking children, well, all you really need to do is to love them. And if, as time goes by you come to actually like your offspring, well then, that is a pleasant but not necessary for their survival blessing that has been bestowed upon you."

There was silence again as Jean-Luc finished off his coffee cup and Guinan appropriated the French brandy decanter. Jean-Luc asked another question. "Guinan, what are you doing here? I thought that Captain Riker was in need of your assistance."

"Don't worry about Cap'n Bill. I'll only be away from him for a few weeks. Once I get things straightened out with you and the babies, I'll return to the Enterprise for a few months. It will take me a while to get things settled with Will. And then I'll come back here for about a year or so. Unless I can find someone perfect for you and the twins before then."

"Guinan, I don't know what to say to you, except thank you."

"Don't thank me just yet, Jean-Luc."

"Why does that suddenly sound ominous to me?"

Guinan laughed. "I'm just telling you that the odds are pretty good that Q will want to be a godfather." Guinan could tell by the way that the superintendent of Starfleet Academy paled that he was not exactly pleased with her prognostication.

After wishing that he had some brandy left in his cup, but not quite feeling up to battling Guinan for the dregs in the decanter, he asked in as firm a voice as he could muster, "Is there anything that you can do to prevent this?"

Guinan laughed again. It wasn't a kind sound. "If I tried, I'd probably cause another Continuum civil war to start up." On Jean-Luc's distressed expression, she decided to take some pity upon him. "Of course, I could go searching for evidence of some monumental mistake on Q's behalf that would be big enough to blackmail the jackass. That might work. And I'm sure that such evidence would not be that difficult to find."

"Any effort of my behalf would greatly be appreciated," Jean-Luc formally stated as he put down his empty cup. Suddenly, he felt very, very tired. He barely covered his mouth with his hand before a yawn escaped.

"Normally, my company is stimulating enough to keep you awake, Johnny. But these are exceptional circumstances. Go upstairs and comfort the mother of your children. I'll figure out things around here by myself."

Deciding not to argue with her, Jean-Luc climbed the iron, spiral staircase up to his bed. And his bride.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

Jean-Luc Picard now knew precisely what was one of his personal definitions of hell. It was defined as a bright, annoyingly energetic and cheerful Lwaxana Troi wearing a cherry red and neon orange zig-zag patterned skin-tight track suit of all things, poking him in the ribs with one of her ghastly illuminated and lacquered long nails. What made this moment truly worthy of hell's notation was the fact that it was barely 0500 hours. And that he was lying naked in his bed, next to a wife that was still lightly snoring.

"Have you no decency, woman!" he whispered with as much constrained annoyance that he could summon and still not awaken his sleeping wife.

"Jean-Luc, considering how long you have known me, you already know the answer to that question," she tartly whispered back. "Rise and shine, Daddy."

"Why?" he grumbled.

"I'm going running. You are joining me."

"I think not." The fact that his wake up call was set for fifteen minutes hence, and that going running had been on his schedule for this morning was besides the point. He was not going to let Lwaxana dictate to him.

"As you wish." Lwaxana benignly smiled down at her quarry, regretted the fact that she couldn't think of a single legitimate reason to drag the sheet off of his body - other than her lustful curiosity, of course - and then quietly turned away.

This more than anything else she could have done, unnerved him. Grumbling, he grabbed his grey robe, wrapped it about himself whilst still in bed under the sheet because he'd always suspected Lwaxana's ulterior motives when it came to himself and prospective nakedness, and stood, ignoring the lady and marched directly into his dressing room. He closed the door behind him. He heard the lady's harumph over this action. And he permitted himself a slight smile over it.

Less than five minutes later he stood before Lwaxana in the hallway, wearing his regulation Starfleet track suit in silver and blue. He was not wearing his short shorts. Instead he'd opted for a full length runner's outfit.

"Come, let's go for a brisk run."

He could be cheery too, Lwaxana learned, quelling her dismay; and her annoyance over his outmaneuvering her when it came to his choice of clothing. His intention of running rings around her was foremost in his mind, after he'd made sure that Beverly was still sleeping comfortably. He'd even left a note explaining his whereabouts to his bride. Lwaxana started considering making a deal with some Ferengi about secretly cloning him and marketing him as the perfect, ideal husband…

Some thirty minutes later on the officer's running track at the Academy, Jean-Luc Picard was willing to admit being surprised by Lwaxana. Oh, she was not in great physical shape. But she was keeping up with him. He had to give her credit for that.

He waved his hand toward one of the trackside benches and then sat down, opening up his water bottle to drink a few swigs. Then he offered the bottle to Lwaxana. She shook her head. "I've got my own," she explained as she pulled a flask from the inside of her sports bra.

Picard doubted that the bottle contained mere water.

After a few moments of silence as they watched a few runners pass by, Jean-Luc finally got up the nerve to ask, "What do you really want here, Lwaxana?"

"Isn't it enough that I've said that I've come to help you and Beverly with your twins?"

Jean-Luc shook his head. "I'm sorry that I seem suspicious. But…"

"…you know me too well," Lwaxana interjected, laughing. "Truth is, helping you will ease my daughter's heart. In spite of the fact that she should be tending to her own business, she still worries about you and Beverly. And she'll never get around to trapping Will Riker until her mind is at ease."

Picard digested her words. "I thought that you did not like Will Riker."

"Oh, that was ages ago. It seems Captain Riker is my daughter's choice. Lord knows why. I've tried tempting Deanna away from him with just about every eligible bachelor in the galaxy but nothing has worked."

He considered another something that she had just said. "Trapping Will Riker?" Having been the quarry of too many plotting women in his life time, he could still overreact when he came upon such language.

"Do you think that Will Riker will willingly walk down the aisle?"

"With Deanna, when the time is right, he will. You don't need any machinations for that to happen. Being the captain of a starship encourages one to achieve a certain maturity rather rapidly. It shouldn't be too long before he realizes that marrying Deanna is a good thing to do."

"True."

Picard digested this. "I am confused, Madam."

Lwaxana smiled in sympathy. "If I am anywhere near Deanna and Will, I won't be able to help myself. I will be plotting something. And knowing me, it will be several some-things. So, helping you will help keep me from meddling and out of Deanna's hair as she settles her life her own way."

"Glad to be of service, I think." With that, he grinned and somewhat evilly suggested, "Are you up to another 5 k run?"

"Are you mad?" She shuddered at this thought. "I've just done my exercise for the year…"

=/\= =/\= =/\=

"Johnny, are you sure that you wish to do this?" Mildred asked as she trailed after Admiral Picard, following him into the library.

"What is there to discuss, Mildred. Is there a problem?"

"Well, you're going to LaBarre for Christmas. You'll be having Christmas Eve with your family for the first time in decades. And you want to come back here on Christmas Day?"

"There is a seven hour time difference between LaBarre and San Francisco. Beverly and I will have our Christmas dinner with my brother and still be back here in plenty of time for the festivities on Christmas Day."

"But won't it be too much for Beverly?"

"I'll put her to bed, if I have to when we return from France. Lwaxana and Wesley can stand guard if necessary." He sat down on his side of the partner's desk. "What is your real objection to my plan?"

"All the non-humans are going to howl their bloody heads off for starters. The memos alone will keep your interns busy for weeks."

"And rightly so, if I had planned this event to be hosted on Academy grounds. But this house is my private property. If I want to hold an open house during winter break for all the cadets and staff who are still here at the Academy, on Christmas day in the evening, who is to gainsay me?" He looked away from her for a moment, remembering kindnesses given from old officers and teachers to a lonely, young cadet during the winter holidays. As a cadet, Jean-Luc had refused to return home after one too many arguments with his father, oh so long ago. Some had noticed and had included him in their holiday plans. He'd always wanted to repay these kindnesses in some manner. And providing a place for cadets to go on Christmas Day was not a bad way to begin to pay old debts of honor.

"Does Beverly know your planning this?"

"She's already been working on the menus."

"Actually, it's not that bad of an idea…"

"You just wish that you'd thought of it first," Jean-Luc tartly observed.

Mildred sniffed but said no more as she left the room.


	4. Admittances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean-Luc has a few conversations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N.: I'm going to try to post the next story or two within a week or two. They will cover the birth of the twins.

DE-TACHED:STORY TWO: 

LIFE WITH BEVERLY: 

CHAPTER 4:

"How are you feeling?" he solicitously asked.

"You don't know?" she asked.

His smile was loving as he lifted up her left hand and pressed a kiss against her wedding band. "I'm learning not to intrude when you are bonding with our babies."

She nodded, even as part of her heart melted even more at his romantic gesture of kissing her hand. With the tutoring of both Guinan and Lwaxana, Beverly and Jean-Luc were learning when to bond, and when not to bond with each other and the unborn babes, thereby showing their children the way. "Lwaxana said that we should focus on our emotions when we blend our consciousness with the babies' minds. They're not quite ready for logic guided thinking. Right now, they should just learn to trust us, and in our love for them."

"I agree. Not that I'm an expert in such matters. But I have been reading…"

Beverly lightly laughed as she pulled her husband down to sit by her side on the Chesterfield sofa in the library. "Jean-Luc, I've been reading too. But there is very little literature that covers humanoid telepathic prenatal bonding."

"Perhaps one day, you'll write that paper…"

"Perhaps, I will." She stood and tugged Jean-Luc into a standing position. "Let's go for a walk in the garden. I want to watch the sun set."

"Agreed." Jean-Luc opened up one of the terrace doors, and then guided Beverly down the cement steps into the first level of the garden where the lovely roses still bloomed. It was late November, but the weather patterns had been set for more mild than usual temperatures. One only needed a sweater to go walking. And Beverly wished to take advantage of this good weather pattern.

They walked for a while, holding hands, simply content to just be with each other. For both of them, it had been a rather stressful week. But now that Beverly knew the facts about her babies, she was at peace again with her impending motherhood. It was going to be a challenge, to be sure, to have a pair of naturally telepathic twins. She recalled what it had been like with Wesley and his gifts which were intuitive and minimal at best. And now she was becoming a mother again, times two. And at an age when most women were contemplating becoming grandmothers instead of mothers. She truly thought that she must be crazy to even consider doing it.

Sensing some of Beverly's emotions, Jean-Luc guided her to a bench facing west. After they were settled on it, Jean-Luc put his arm around Beverly's shoulders and pulled her close.

"I know that I haven't really said so before, but I really am glad that I am sharing this pregnancy with you, Beverly."

She patted his arm. "You may go down as the first human husband in history who was upset that his wife didn't share her morning sickness with him." She heard him sigh, and then tense as if he were debating about telling her something. Ignoring the sunset, she looked her husband straight in the face. "I am sorry, Jean-Luc. I panicked when I sensed two minds instead of one, yet the medical tricorders were telling me that I was carrying only one child. I didn't know what to do. That's why I turned to Deanna. I knew that the Betazeds must have some experience…"

"That's not why I was hurt by your actions, Beverly."

"What then?"

"You didn't trust me." He shook his head. "Your first instinct was to retreat from me. To shut me out. That is what I am upset about."

Beverly shook off the hand resting on her arm. "I know, I know. I should have shared with you, and I didn't. Old habits are hard to break, Jean-Luc."

He thought for a while. "Were you like this with Jack?"

"Jack was always an open person to me, Jean-Luc." She arched an eyebrow. "You, on the other hand… You have layers upon layers; levels upon levels… I know that you have to force yourself to be open with me, Jean-Luc. You have to actually think about it before you do it. With Jack, it was instinctual…"

He considered her words. "You are correct. Being open and forthcoming does not come naturally to me."

"Well, the same is true for me, Jean-Luc. Even as I was doing it to you, I knew it was wrong. But I couldn't help myself. We both are too used to hiding behind barriers, Jean Luc."

Jean-Luc chuckled.

"What?"

"To think that I once was under the mistaken impression that when we married, life would suddenly become easy. Instead I find that the easy part is in loving you. But living with you - well, that's another matter."

Beverly chuckled too. "If only life didn't get in the way."

His fingers touched her cheek, guiding her head slowly toward his. Their lips met in a soft, sweet kiss.

"We will just have to solve our problems as we encounter them, Jean-Luc." Beverly's voice was soft as she caressed her husband's face. "And I promise not to react first and think second, in the future - if I can at all help it."

He nodded in agreement.

After the sun had gone done, Jean-Luc and Beverly strolled across the terrace to enter their dining room through its French doors. Mildred was already seated, waiting for them. "Guinan's gone out to dinner with an old friend," she announced.

"Where is Lwaxana?" Picard politely asked as he noted that only four table settings were placed.

"She's in the living room," Mildred abstractedly answered as she was preoccupied with identifying the smells that were wafting her way from the kitchen behind the swinging doors.

Standing, Picard went in search of Lwaxana. A few minutes later, he returned. His face was scarlet, and he was barely suppressing his fury.

"Mrs. Krebs!"

"What?" She jumped at the sound and tone of his voice.

"The next time Lwaxana is entertaining Admiral Winston Holt Wiley - the head of Starfleet, no less - please inform me of this fact ahead of time. Before I interrupt them!" He sat down with a thud.

"But… Lwaxana had already entertained Winnie in her rooms. Are you telling me that they were doing it again?"

"Yes."

"Hmmmm. Now, that's really impressive, considering both their ages," Mildred acerbically observed.

Beverly's attempt to stifle her laughter failed royally. She cackled loudly, much to her husband's distaste. Though he was growing accustomed to such reactions from Beverly.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

After dinner, Beverly had declared her fatigue and had gone upstairs. Mildred bid Jean-Luc a good night and went to the suite in the annex that she used when she decided to spend the night. Since Lwaxana was in residence, Mildred thought her presence might help prevent the possibility of the shedding of blood.

Jean-Luc went to the library to check for any messages. After judging that here was nothing of importance, he wandered along the library shelves, looking for something interesting to read that he had not yet discovered. The blending of his collection of books along with Beverly's books and those family tomes which he had inherited from his Aunt Adele, had produced some very interesting collections. And reads. Deciding to try to read some ancient science fiction, since someone on his mother's side of the family had been an avid SF collector, Jean-Luc picked a book by an author whose name he actually recognized. He chose I Robot by Isaac Asimov. But before he could become involved with the book he was interrupted.

"Jean-Luc, got a minute?"

Jean-Luc automatically stood when the head of Starfleet entered the library.

"Nice place you got here," Winston Holt Wiley observed.

"Thank you, Holt. I rather like it." He glanced at the man, refusing to display a whit of nervousness over their last, embarrassing encounter. Though the sight of the bare buttocks belonging to the head of Starfleet would remain embedded in Jean-Luc's memory for quite a while. "Have you had dinner?"

Winnie chortled. "Eventually Lwaxana and I got around to it. You've got a great chef. If I didn't know that Mildred would make my life utterly miserable, I'd try to steal him away from you…" He looked about the room again, as if looking for something. "It isn't often that I say this, but I do apologize for my indiscretion, Jean-Luc. Lwaxana thought that she'd communicated to you that she was not joining you for dinner." As he watched Jean-Luc's ears turn a little pink, Holt added, "Obviously you did not get the message." Anticipating what Jean-Luc wanted to ask before he even said it, Holt continued. "I promise that in the future, Lwaxana and I will stay within the confines of her guest room's walls."

Admiral Jean-Luc Picard wasn't sure if he should be grateful or angry over this admission. The thought of the head of Starfleet having sex with Lwaxana in his house over the next few weeks at least, was not a pleasant prospect. He considered his options and boldly chose the one that was best for him. "Perhaps it would be better if you took Lwaxana out to dinner - at your place."

Holt could not fault the man for this request. "Yes. Perhaps if I escort Lwaxana about, it would be better."

Almost audibly sighing in relief, Jean-Luc sat back down in his armchair, motioning for Holt to join him on the sofa. "Is there something that I can do for you, Holt?"

Holt again glanced about the room. "Where's the good stuff?"

Jean-Luc smiled. And then went to the antique inlaid wood cellarette that was placed on a side table against a wall. "Brandy, bourbon or something else?" he asked as he unlocked then lifted up the lid to the liquor box.

"Oh, Picard brandy, I think."

Knowing that Winston usually went for the most expensive stuff when it was being offered, Jean-Luc poured two snifter's of the Picard Vineyard Fine de la Marne brandy.

After giving Holt his brandy, they both watched the fire for a few minutes. But Jean-Luc was not that surprised when Holt started speaking.

"I understand that you're holding an open house for cadets on Christmas Day, Jean-Luc."

"Yes. I'm inviting all the cadets, instructors, teaching staff, etc. And you, if you wish it."

"I'll come."

Picard nodded his acceptance.

"I've already heard a few squawks from the Bolian Embassy. Something about forcing our religious customs down their throats."

"No one has to attend a party being held on privately owned property, Holt."

"True," Holt nodded as if considering something. "I actually like your idea."

"Yes. It will give me a chance to assess as individuals, the cadets that do show up."

"You do know that some cadets might feel that attending is obligatory."

"I've already said otherwise in the open invitation that was sent. Besides, during the new year, I am going to invite one at a time, every class to a barbecue or luncheon to be held here. I want to get to know my cadets. I might be able help them better and be a better superintendent, if I meet them on a less formal basis, rather than just to see them as names and faces on a padd." Picard nodded in the direction of the annex. "I've already got seven interns working here that I've drawn from several departments. Command, the sciences, etc. They all need to be exposed to something above and beyond their disciplines, if only because they do need to learn how to get along with familiar faces as well as the alien ones."

"I thought we had classes for that."

"You know as well as I do Holt, that text book situations and holodeck simulations leave a great deal to be desired."

The Fleet Admiral of Starfleet nodded his agreement. Then his eyes focused at a painting on the wall. "Nice portrait of your senior officers, Jean-Luc. Who painted it?"

"Mr. Data did it as a farewell present for Beverly and myself when we left the Enterprise. It's a remarkable accomplishment. And a work of art. It is definitely one of our most treasured gifts."

"And to think that you were hesitant to have a mechanical man as a bridge officer when I first suggested his name to you, all those years ago."

"I've already admitted that I was wrong in that regard. Now, I cannot quite believe how much I do miss Mr. Data. The Academy could certainly use someone like him as an instructor."

"I think that the only way that you'd get Mr. Data away from Will Riker is over Riker's dead body."

Picard chuckled. "Probably…"

Holt interrupted Jean-Luc. "And in case you're wondering, Riker is doing an excellent job as the captain of the Enterprise. In fact, he's doing a far better job than what I ever expected him to do. It seems that you were right about the man, after all." Holt swirled his brandy a bit before adding, "His transition to the captain's seat has been seamless. And he recently solved a little incident along the Romulan border in a manner that I don't think any other captain would have even thought of much less have managed to pull off." Holt chuckled. "I think he called it Klondike diplomacy in his report."

"I read that report. Will does has a flare for words - and for the dramatic as well. His ability to find unique solutions saved the Enterprise many, many times over the years, when he was my Number One."

"I concede, Jean-Luc."

"Over what, Holt?"

"I didn't want Riker when you picked him as your First Officer. Now, I admit, I was wrong."

Jean-Luc almost choked at these words.

There was a companiable silence between them for a few moments.

"Care to tell me the real reason as to why Lwaxana is staying with you instead of me, Jean-Luc?"

Picard nodded, now knowing the real reason as to why Holt had sought him out. "What has the lady told you, Holt?"

"That she was staying with you because Beverly needed her."

"That is true, Holt. Beverly is in need of her guidance."

Holt mulled this over as he continued to warm the brandy glass with his hands. "Something to do with the pregnancy?"

"Yes."

When Jean-Luc said nothing more, Holt decided that the brandy had warmed up enough and took a little sip. Sighing with pleasure as the liquor passed across his palate, he settled back against the sofa. "Considering the important plans that I have for the lady, I am somewhat surprised that Beverly got herself pregnant."

Not taking umbrage at this implied criticism of his wife was a rather difficult thing to do, but Jean-Luc was able to hold on to his temper. "Beverly says that she can handle everything, Holt. And I believe her. Your cousin Mildred is arranging for sufficient support staff after the babies are born."

Holt choked. "Babies?"

"Beverly is expecting twins - a boy and a girl."

"You never do anything half-way, do you Jean-Luc?"

"I believe that Beverly has made note of that in the past," Picard dryly replied. "Beverly actually asked Deanna Troi to help her assess potential nannies and nursemaids for us. But since Deanna couldn't come, she sent her mother instead." Picard held up his snifter to gaze at the liquid by firelight. There was something calming about its color as well as with its taste. "I rather think that Lwaxana was looking for any excuse to spend some time in San Francisco, Holt." He took a sip of his brandy and immediately appreciated it, before continuing. "I do believe the Ambassadress is considering acquiring another husband for her collection." Picard was rewarded with a grimace from Holt. For Jean-Luc had successfully guided the conversation in another direction. "I've encountered the lady's determination in the past. She is a dame formidable."

Holt gulped down the remainder of his liquor. "Actually, marriage is an idea that I've considered now and then." He stood. "But I don't know if the head of Starfleet should consider it with the head ambassadress of a diplomatic delegation." He put down his snifter. "I'll bid you good night, Jean-Luc." With that he swiftly departed.

Left alone with his brandy and a book, Jean-Luc chuckled knowing that he'd been the winner of this encounter with Holt. That almost made up for the sight of Holt making love to Lwaxana in the nude, that he'd unfortunately observed earlier in the evening. Some things were just never meant to be seen. Then he ordered, "Computer, raise illumination by 50%." He was anticipating spending a peaceful hour or two reading.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

Beverly wondered where her husband was. She reached over to his side of the bed and felt nothing but cool navy blue cotton sheets. He obviously had yet to come to bed. She looked about the darkened room. With the diffused light entering through the windows from the garden, she could see that she was alone. So where was he?

Donning the turquoise embroidered Chinese silk house robe that Deanna had given her as a present years ago, Beverly went in search of her husband. If he wasn't in their suite then she'd ask the computer for his location. Entering the dark dressing room she noticed a light under the connecting door to the nursery.

"Jean-Luc?" she asked as she opened this door. And then she gasped. For there was her husband, still wearing his evening clothes, perched high up on a ladder, spreading aquamarine paint about a wall. Much to her surprise, he actually seemed to know what his was doing. The drips were minimal. "Jean-Luc?"

He glanced down at her, and proffered her one of his most loving smiles. "I couldn't sleep."

"I'm sure that I could give you something for that."

"True. But I felt energized this evening. And I didn't wish to disturb you." He glanced back at the fresh paint. "I thought that I'd paint this wall so we could see what it does look like in the morning light."

"I thought that you said that there were programs that do that."

"And I thought that you said otherwise. I agree with you, by the way. Sometimes, you just need to see the real thing." He climbed down the ladder and put away the paint.

"You're in a good mood," she observed.

"I had a little skirmish with Holt in the library a few hours ago." He wiped off his hands on a towel.

"I take it that you won?" She stepped into his open arms.

"Holt has decided to take Lwaxana out to dinner, whenever he feels…"

"…amorous?" Beverly suggested.

Jean-Luc lightly swatted her fanny. "Behave," he ordered.

"If I did that, you'd be disappointed," she retorted.

He paused as if considering her words, and then his smile beamed. "So true, mon coeur. If you had behaved, I don't think that we'd be expecting twins."

Since she didn't really have a good response to that, she did the next best thing. She kissed him. And kissed him. And sometime after the fourth passionate kiss, he swung her up into his arms and carried her back their bed.

Beverly laughed with delight at this gesture.

"You're still my lusty wench, aren't you, mon coeur?" he whispered as he gently lowered her down onto the sheets.

"Always, Jean-Luc. Always…" She yanked him down onto their bed with a light laugh, rolling back into his arms.

He was still grinning as he kissed her back.

The End. For now.

A.N.: I'm going to try to post the next story or two within a week or two. They will cover the birth of the twins.


End file.
